


The Light Behind Us

by Prentice



Category: Dracula & Related Fandoms, Dracula (TV 2020), Dracula - Bram Stoker
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Biting, Blood Drinking, Blood and Violence, Eventual Romance, M/M, Mild Feminization, Mutual Pining, Non-Consensual Blood Drinking, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possessive Behavior, Slow Burn, Slow To Update, Unhealthy Relationships, Vampire Sex, references to past rape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:54:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22309003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prentice/pseuds/Prentice
Summary: The modern era might not be ready for the likes of Count Dracula of Wallachia but Dr. John Harker is...he hopes.
Relationships: Dracula/Jonathan Harker
Comments: 30
Kudos: 200





	The Light Behind Us

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my January 'What If' challenge (#3 - Canon Diverges; Pining). This goes very quickly AU after Episode 2 and borrows heavily from Episode 3 so if you weren't a fan of the time jump or Zoe as a character, you probably won't like this. 
> 
> _I chose not to use archive warnings, take that seriously. Also, this is endgame Johnathan/Dracula. If you're hoping for something else, you'll be disappointed._
> 
> As always, check the tags. I'm not your mum, your bff, or your therapist and your reading habits are _your_ responsibility so be informed and empowered and have fun!

_“Johnny,” a voice singsong’s from behind him; the shivery brush of cool breath ruffling the hair at the nape of his neck. “Johnny Blue Eyes.” Long fingers – elegant, for all that he knows the nails are razor-sharp and deadly – slide slowly down his sides, disrupting the line of his simple cotton nightshirt as they quickly gather the fabric between them. The fingers tug teasingly at the length until it gathers embarrassingly, scandalously, around his bare hips. “My perfect blue-eyed boy.”_

_Shivering, Johnathan swallows, a hunger he isn’t quite sure how to name writhing like a nest of snakes within his stomach as a nose drags playfully behind his ear._

_“My pretty little mate”, the voice continues, husky and low, while surprisingly warm lips mouth softly at his neck. Sharp teeth – too sharp, he knows, to be human – nip lightly at the skin. “Pretty, pretty, Johnny Blue.”_

_A large hand, rough with unexpected callouses, drops one side of his gathered nightshirt to smooth beneath the fabric, wide palm gliding over his naked stomach, fingertips teasing over his navel. “Isn’t that right, my dear? You’re my pretty little mate.”_

_Mouth opening, Jonathan gasps, reply choking somewhere in the back of his throat as the hand on his stomach drifts lower, fingers spreading until his already stiffening sex is framed obscenely in the ‘V’ between thumb and fingers. The fall of his nightshirt, still gathered against one hip, barely obscuring the full length of his growing erection as a body molds itself hard against his back. The strange imagined heat of another presence nearly smothering him as the fingers curl possessively around his cock._

_Shuddering, Johnathan whimpers, body pressing to and away from the sensation as the muscles in his stomach tighten; fingers curling tightly into fists at his sides._

_“Beautiful responsive Johnny,” the voice – Lord help him, the voice! – praises lowly, cool palm moving slowly over his cock, teasing it to full twitching hardness. “My most promising little bride.”_

_Gasping, Johnathan –_

_*_

– woke instantly, the sharp shrill ring of the mobile on his desk jerking him unceremoniously out of a restless half-sleep.

Blinking, Dr. John Harker shudders, the last vestiges of his dream fading like smoke in the wind as he presses a hand low against his belly; the ache of his hardon making him wince as he shifts against his office chair. Thankfully, there’s no one there to see him. The opaque floor to ceiling windows that make up the front of his office affording him some semblance of privacy as he takes a deep cleansing breath and tries his best to will his erection away.

It doesn’t work, of course.

It never does.

Not with these…dreams.

Sighing, John took another breath, hand lifting away from his stomach – the temptation to let it drift is too great; the thought of grinding the heel of his palm against his tented trousers enough to make him twitch helplessly in his pants – before pulling his still ringing mobile towards him.

It’s Zoe.

Of course, it is.

Forcing back another sigh, John swipes his finger across the screen and lifts it to his ear. “I thought I told you to go home hours ago, my dear. You really are working too hard, especially considering –”

“John,” Zoe cuts in, voice sharp and serious, the way it always is, but also…

“Zoe?” He prompts immediately, back straightening unconsciously in his seat; his already half-forgotten dream entirely shoved to the back of his mind as he listens to Zoe’s breathing. “What’s happened? What’s wrong?”

There’s a beat of silence and then: “They found him.”

Stilling, John forgets to breathe.

Forgets to blink.

Forgets to…to… _live_.

Just for a moment, though. A single solitary second, when time seems to stretch and grow, the smoke of his dream swirling around him as a voice growls possessively in his ear, ‘ _my beautiful little bride’,_ and a cock drives hard into him. His back arching and his teeth-baring, the syrupy sweet taste of blood heavy on his tongue as he writhes and ruts and _pushes_ back into the maddening pleasure. His hands scrambling on the bedsheets as his cotton nightshirt is used as a leash to pull him up onto his knees, head falling back onto a strong shoulder as he’s taken again…and again…and again…

“ –hn? John? Did you hear me? I said they – ” Zoe’s voice from his mobile.

Standing, John takes a deep, fortifying, _unnecessary_ breath before moving around his desk and towards his office’s door.

“I heard you,” he says as he slips past the opaque door, feet silent and unnaturally quick as he makes his way down the deserted hallway. “Tell me everything.”

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for any lingering tense or grammar issues.


End file.
